Texas Sunrise

By Fern Michaels

“A stunning and emotional conclusion to the story of a family that readers have come to care for and love” from the #1 bestselling author of Texas Fury (Los Angeles Daily News).
 
From the seductive waters of Hawaii to the rustic splendor of Vermont, from the sprawling family ranch, Sunbridge, to the high-tech glamour of Japan, the Colemans have been driven apart by the passions and betrayals of a new generation. But now, as Billie Coleman Kingsley, their beloved matriarch, lays dying, she offers new hope to heal their rifts. Even as her own strength fails, the indomitable Billie instills courage and confidence in the future. And as the Colemans gather around her, preparing for their inevitable, shattering loss, they all must transform their lives.
 
Praise for Texas Rich
 
“Fascinating, interesting, and exciting. One of those rare books, the kind the reader doesn’t want to end. A real winner!” —Green Bay Press Gazette
 
“A big, rich book in every way . . . I think Fern Michaels has struck oil with this one.” —Patricia Matthews
 
“A steaming, sprawling saga . . . As always, Fern Michaels writes a full story with bigger-than-life characters we would look forward to meeting.” —Romantic Times
 
“Fine fare for Fern Michaels’s fans!” —The Philadelphia Inquirer

• Language: English
• Publisher: eClassics
• Release date: May 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781601830708

Fern Michaels

New York Times bestselling author Fern Michaels has a passion for romance, often with a dash of suspense and drama. It stems from her other joys in life—her family, animals, and historic home. She is usually found in South Carolina, where she is either tapping out stories on her computer, rescuing or supporting animal organizations, or dabbling in some kind of historical restoration.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Billie Kingsley blinked. It was the only outward sign that she’d heard what the specialist had said. But inwardly, time stood still for her. What would happen to her family, to her children, her grandchildren? To Thad, her husband? They were her reasons for living. Now this man in his wrinkled white coat was telling her it was all coming to an end. He looked miserable, as if he were going to cry. She had to make the look go away. Her thin hand stretched across the desk. It’s not your fault, Aaron. I’ve always believed our death is ordained the day we’re born.

Aaron Kopelman had known all the Colemans, had been invited to their Texas barbecues, had gone to school with Moss Coleman, Billie’s first husband. He remembered being introduced to Billie for the first time and wondering if she would be a match for the robust Colemans. How would this shy, pretty, inexperienced girl from Philadelphia fare among them over the years? It didn’t take him long to find out and since then he’d loved her like his own sister. Billie Coleman Kingsley was unique, and God simply didn’t make them any better. Or if He did, He kept them for Himself. How will you tell Thad? was all he could think to say.

I don’t know, Aaron. I told Thad I was coming to a fabric show, that I was thinking of doing some new designs. I’m not sure if he believed me or not. I’ve never lied to him, not once in all the years we’ve been married, but I just couldn’t bear to give him even a moment’s worry. I think maybe I’ll go back to the hotel and do some thinking.

No you won’t, Aaron said spiritedly. You’re coming home with me. We have to talk about . . . treatment. She was so beautiful, Aaron thought, and never more so than at this moment. How was that possible? Was it her essential goodness, her kindness and selflessness showing through? Even now she wasn’t thinking about herself, but about her family, her husband, and how her illness was going to affect them. He felt a fierce protectiveness he’d never experienced before, and wondered if it showed on his face.

No, Aaron, Billie said gently, I need to be alone. I need to absorb all of what you’ve told me, and I can only do that if I’m by myself. But I appreciate your invitation. You’re a dear, wonderful friend, Aaron. Now, she said briskly, with barely a break in her voice, let’s talk about my ... limited options.

It was mid-afternoon when Aaron Kopelman walked Billie to the lobby. Promises had been made, commitments would be honored. I’ll be back a week from today, Aaron. Give Phyllis my love. I’ll give Thad yours.

Aaron felt hot tears prick his eyelids. He knew they were going to roll down his cheeks, but he didn’t give a damn. Why Billie? Why not the killers, the drug dealers, the rapists? If it were possible, he said, I’d change places with you. I swear to God I would.

Billie laid a gentle finger against his lips. How dear this homely man was, how sincere, how loving. Shhh. You’re needed here. God knows that. And, if it were possible to change places, I wouldn’t do it, you’re much too important to leave this earth ahead of schedule. I, on the other hand, am not eager to go, but if it’s my time, then I must accept it. I just hope I can meet my Maker with all the dignity Amelia had. I only want to be strong. Do you think, Aaron, that God will allow me that one request? You know, I never bargained with God for anything. I mean I’ve prayed, but never for myself. Maybe He doesn’t know I’m here. Do you pray, Aaron? she asked fretfully.

Every single day of my life. His voice sounded just as fretful as hers. But like you, it’s always for someone else.

They said their good-byes, and as he watched her walk away, he said today’s prayer there in the open doorway. He asked that God not let her suffer, but instead give her the strength and the dignity she needed.

It was six o’clock when Billie entered her hotel. She was glad she’d rented a suite instead of a room. She liked to walk around, and in its mini-kitchen area she could make a cup of coffee or have a drink without having to call room service. It rather felt like home. She also liked having a telephone in the bathroom, although Thad always said that it was obscene. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Billie popped a can of 7UP and kicked off her shoes before she sat down on a dark, chocolate-colored love seat. She stretched out her legs, frowning at their thinness. After pressing the remote to turn on the television, she adjusted the volume to the lowest setting.

She was alone now. Now she could react in private. Howl, yowl, curse, scream, cry, rant and rave. Instead, she thought of all those who’d gone before her and those whom she was about to leave behind. She sipped at her cold drink. She had to call Thad. She had to call everyone. She needed to hear their voices. All those she loved would give her the courage to do what had to be done.

Her husband picked up on the second ring.

Darling, how are things at home? Billie asked lightly.

When are you coming back? Thad grumbled.

Tomorrow morning. I want you to meet me with a large bouquet of spring flowers. Artificial will do if you can’t find any in bloom. Billie giggled.

For you, my darling, anything. A slice of the moon, a sunbeam, a sparkling star. Me. What time?

Eleven o’clock.

Wonderful. We can go to O’Malley’s for lunch. I haven’t had anything decent to eat since you left. I hate eating peanut butter and jelly for breakfast. Actually, it isn’t the peanut butter and jelly, it’s eating alone. God, I miss you, Billie. Did you find the fabric you were looking for?

No. They’re going to send me some samples next week. New ones.

So what’s new in the Big Apple?

Not much. But I’ve missed you too, Thad. This city frightens me to death. I can’t wait to get back to the farm.

I volunteered to go with you, but you said no. Thad chuckled. Serves you right, old girl.

Billie forced a smile into her voice. A mistake I won’t make again. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be the girl in the red dress.

Sweetheart, you could be dressed in burlap and I’d pick you out of a crowd of thousands. I love you, Billie.

Tomorrow you can prove how much. Have a nice evening, darling. I’m going to curl up with a book. Maybe I’ll call the children or maybe I’ll turn in early. ’Night, Thad.

’Night, honey. Dream about me.

Count on it, Billie said cheerfully.

Exhausted with the effort she’d put into the phone call, Billie leaned back into the depths of the love seat. She realized that Thad was going to fall apart at the news, and the thought made her straighten her shoulders. She would have to remain strong for all of them. Lord, how was she to do it? The family she so loved paraded behind her closed eyelids. A lone tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. She wiped it with a trembling finger.

The long, lonely night stretched ahead of her. What to do with it? Eating would take up some time. Tea, lots of tea. Tea always made things better. It didn’t make sense; tea had caffeine. Maybe some plum wine. Both she and Thad adored plum wine. No, she needed a clear head so she could think about the situation. She picked up the phone and dialed room service. Her order rolled off her tongue: two glasses of plum wine, two pots of tea, a side of raw vegetables, and a ham and cheese sandwich.

She had thirty minutes until her food arrived. Do something, her mind ordered. Remove your makeup, take off your clothes, put on that snuggly, yellow flannel robe Thad likes so much. Brush your hair, the gray hair Thad asked you not to color. Remove the pearl earrings Thad gave you for your birthday. She found herself staring at her wedding ring, a wide, plain, gold wedding band. Would they leave it on her finger when it was . . . when it was time to go? Of course they would. She would need it when it was time to meet Thad in Eternity. Write it down. Write everything down so there’s no problem later. The words ricocheted around her mind.

She finished writing just as the room-service waiter knocked on her door. With greedy hands, she reached for the wine and drank it in two fiery swallows. Her insides rebelled instantly, and she ran, blinded by watery eyes, to the bathroom.

When she was back in the sitting room, Billie nibbled on the sandwich, which wasn’t like any sandwich she’d ever seen. Even Thad, who was a big eater, wouldn’t be able to finish it. It was a creation, she thought as she picked at the ham and thinly sliced cheese. It looked pressed, like someone had used a hot iron to flatten it so that more meat and cheese could be added. She had to remember to tell Thad about this sandwich.

Enough already, her mind ordered. A moment later the phone was in her hands.

Mam, what’s wrong? Maggie whispered fearfully.

I’m so sorry, darling. I’ve had this feeling all day that I should call you. Is everything all right with you and Rand?

Mam, hold on, I’m going out to the lanai. Don’t hang up now. While Billie waited for one phone to be picked up and the other to be hung up, she allowed herself to imagine the lanai, that wonderful, glorious patio, half indoor room and half outdoor room, which was full of colorful, vibrant flowers and greenery. Maggie had said, just a short time ago, that she had reupholstered all the lanai furniture in a wild fuchsia and purple pattern.

Mam, I’m delighted with this call, Maggie said when she came back on the line. "How are things in Vermont? What’s going on? We just talked a while ago.

I know you want to know what I’m going to do about Billie Limited, right?" Billie Ltd. was her mother’s design firm. Billie had decided to give up managing it and had asked Maggie to take over.

Well, I do think you should be doing something besides swimming and sunning yourself. Sun isn’t good for you, Maggie. What do you do all day, darling?

Hang out with Rand, read, walk, swim, cook a little, hang out with Rand, swim some more and hang out more with Rand.

It almost sounds, Billie said lightly, as though you can’t let him out of your sight. She wondered if Maggie had finally become aware of her husband’s wandering eye.

Maggie’s voice changed slightly. It does, doesn’t it? I think we’re both caught up in this place. We call it our personal paradise. Rand goes to Hilo a few times a week to oversee the sugar refinery. I have to admit that he does more than I do. I’ve been thinking more and more about your offer. I guess I put it off because . . . well, because, you know me, I jump in with both feet and have no time for anything but whatever it is I’m doing. Rand would be ... I think he would be lost. Are you calling for a definite answer or . . . ? Maggie let the rest hang in the air.

Something was wrong. Billie could feel it sing over the wires. Motherly intuition. Darling, if you could just give me some indication if you feel positive or negative about taking over, I would appreciate it. Otherwise, I’ve had an offer to sell, although I cannot believe the amount. Can you imagine, the little design business I started when you were born is now worth over a hundred million dollars? I’m sure the Colemans’ coffers could use the money if you aren’t interested. What she didn’t say was that, in her own limited way, she would be ensuring her family’s security. Billie Ltd. had always been separate from Coleman Enterprises.

My God, Mam, you can’t sell Billie Limited. Who offered you that much money? The Japanese, right? They’re the only ones that have it. What kind of terms?

Cash, Billie lied.

My God!

I was stunned, Maggie, considering I haven’t really done anything with the company for the past year and a half. It’s more or less been running itself, and, I have to admit, going down in revenues. I need to spend time with Thad.

Let me talk to Rand, and I’ll get back to you in a few days. Will that be all right?

"Of course. Now let’s talk about something really interesting. Have you spoken to Cole lately, or Sawyer? And how is the weather?"

My children are fine, Mam. The weather is balmy, I’m here on the lanai, and the breeze is just heavenly. It is paradise, Mam. Did I tell you, I covered the cushions? Bright fuchsia and purple. They keep me awake during the day, the colors are blinding.

Billie chuckled. And Susan? she said cautiously.

Suse is Suse, Mam, you know that. One minute she’s the world’s biggest bitch, the next she’s sweet as sugar. I think she needs to join ‘the world’ and grow up a little. That whining and helpless act she uses is getting a little dated, if you want my opinion. Listen, Mam, I know you take all this to heart and you blame yourself for Susan’s . . . life, but don’t do that to yourself. Susan is ... what, forty-eight? She’s certainly old enough to take charge of her life. Aunt Amelia was . . . look, Susan wanted to go to England to study music. She wanted to live with Aunt Amelia. So now she’s a renowned concert pianist. Not too shabby.

No, it isn’t, but I never should have sent her. I feel that sending her off like that was the biggest mistake of my life. She was too young, too vulnerable. She needed me, but I gave in to your father and Amelia. What I did, Maggie, was to give my daughter away to Amelia. In my heart I believe she hates me for it.

Mam, no! You are the dearest person in the world to Suse. That simply isn’t true.

But it is, darling. Susan wanted it all: England, the career, Amelia’s twenty-four-hour doting, and all of us. As you say, Susan has to grow up a little. Listen, darling, I’ve kept you long enough.

I’m glad you called. Give Thad my love, and I’ll call you in a few days with my answer.

Good night, darling. We’ll talk again in a few days. Give my regards to Rand.

I love you, Mam.

I love you too. Bye, darling.

Billie wiped at the tears on her cheeks. Her head dropped to her hands. She wished, as she wished every day of her life, that her only son hadn’t died during the war. Maggie and Susan both needed a brother, now more than ever. How was she to secure their lives? Should she even try? She needed to know that her family was safe and secure before she . . . She would do whatever she had to. All she needed was strength and a little more time. But time was her enemy now. It wouldn’t be enough to simply persevere. She would have to prevail.

CHAPTER ONE

So, Coleman-san, you have failed.

Cole Tanner looked around, his eyes widening in stunned surprise, certain what he thought he was hearing was real; his father-in-law, Shadaharu Hasegawa’s voice crying on the gentle April breeze. A second later he realized it was his own thought he’d actually voiced aloud. That about sums it up, he said bitterly, his eyes raised to the umbrella of shell-pink blossoms overhead. He remembered the time he carried the frail old Japanese down the hill, the fragile blossoms covering his wasted body. He’d come many times to this peaceful, tranquil spot in the past three years. He held out his hands, palms upward, and watched as the pale, pink blossoms filled his hands. They were beautiful this year, the petals almost translucent. He wondered if it meant something special or if this was just an exceptional year for the cherry blossoms.

He talked because it was the only thing he could think of to do. I did nothing different. I studied and followed your methods, and it wasn’t enough. I worked hard, stretched myself thin to do all that was required. I never slacked off, not once, and yet I failed to move Rising Sun forward. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Most of the others, those closest to you, are certain you . . . made the wrong choice. I can see it in their eyes, and right now I feel the same way. I don’t know where to turn. I came here to meditate as you used to do. I have to believe your trust in me was misguided, that Riley is the one who should be in control of Rising Sun, not me. I’m not worthy. Cole bowed his head in shame, his eyes burning.

Cole meditated silently, and eventually slept, his weary mind succumbing to the tranquility of the cherry blossom hill. Tortured dreams took him to a faraway place he neither knew nor understood. When he awoke, it was with the name Shigata Mitsu on his lips, though he had never heard it before. Sumi was on her knees next to him.

I came to tell you that Sawyer called. She will call back in an hour. She says it is important to talk with you. She was panting with her walk up the hill.

Cole felt instantly contrite. Why didn’t you just call me instead of walking all this way? he admonished gently.

Because I wanted to come here with you. The exercise was good for me, but I think you can carry me down.

All ninety-seven pounds of you? Cole teased.

Actually, it is ninety-eight and a half as of this morning.

That’s because you ate a bowl of ice cream and a slice of cake for breakfast, Cole continued to tease. You’re worrying too much about me. I don’t want you worrying. Things are going to turn around.

Sumi laid her head on Cole’s knee. I know they will. My father chose you, and he never made mistakes in his judgment of people.

He wanted to tell Sumi there was a first time for everything, but instead he asked, Who is Shigata Mitsu?

Sumi shrugged her shoulders. I do not know. Both names are common in Japan, much like the names Michael and Jones in your country. Why do you ask, Cole?

As Cole stroked his wife’s black hair, his voice grew thoughtful, more thoughtful than Sumi had ever heard it. I was meditating and I guess I dozed off. When I woke, I saw you, and the name was on the tip of my tongue. I don’t know if I dreamed it or if it means something. I asked your father’s spirit for guidance. Is it possible the name came from him?

Sumi thought the spirit business silly; she was, after all, a modern Japanese in all ways. She had no time for spirits and legends and the like. She only wanted to deal in the here and now. In her opinion, it was highly unlikely that her father would venture from that nether world where he rested to somehow place a meaningless name on her husband’s lips. No. Her father, if he did indeed leave the spirit world, would have asked for a glass of sake and a cigar.

I do not know, Cole, Sumi said honestly. The name has a certain ring to it, a cadence, if you will. I personally never heard of it. We can ask my sisters and their husbands. Perhaps someone down at the paper or in one of the offices has heard it. The library! she said with a sudden burst of insight. Librarians know everything.

I knew I married you for a reason, Cole teased. I’ll do that, first thing tomorrow. How are you feeling, Sumi?

Wonderful, now that you are paying attention to me. Sumi sighed, loving this warm contact with her husband. These times now were few and far between, much to her chagrin. Her husband was always preoccupied, worried, and lately he was becoming so withdrawn that she was starting to become alarmed. So much so that she was thinking of writing Sawyer a long letter in the hope Cole’s half sister would have some insight and perhaps offer some advice.

Have I been that neglectful, Sumi?

Yes, Cole, you have. I understand how you feel, but my father did not make a mistake when he chose you to run Rising Sun. You must believe this.

Then why am I feeling this way? He caught a lacy pink petal and placed it gently on his wife’s lips. It’s almost as beautiful as you are, he said, tracing the line of her lips and the petal at the same time.

I don’t ever remember the blossoms being this beautiful. I am sad that my father isn’t here to see them. This was always such a special place for him. When I was very little, I would follow him up here and hide behind a bush and watch him. He prayed for us and . . . and ...

And what? Cole asked, curious, as he caught another petal. You know, my grandmother made a dress for Sawyer once that was this color. She took some of the blossoms home with her after a trip over here. Sawyer looked beautiful in her Billie original. See? I know a thing or two about fashion, he said lightly.

My father was offering up prayers of thanks. As a child I seem to remember . . . he was talking to someone, but no one was on the hill. I ran down and told my mother, and she said . . . she said he was probably talking to his . . . friend. Even back then, at the age of seven, I was a skeptic. I demanded to know what friend and if he was invisible like my imaginary playmates. My mother said . . . my mother said . . . what she said was ... oh, dear, I can’t remember. It was so long ago. Come, we must get back, because Sawyer is going to call you. She said it was important.

Cole was careful to keep his arm around her slim shoulders for support as he helped her to her feet. She was so tiny that she came only to the middle of his chest. If she’d been taller, he would have noticed the wild look in her eyes. As it was, he felt her body tremble and thought it was from exertion. He scooped her into his arms and started down the hill, the gentle breeze sending a wave of fragile, pink petals ahead of them.

I think, Cole, that it is time for you to go back to Texas for a visit, Sumi said.

Later, after the baby is born. We’ll all go. Don’t you want to show off our firstborn?

Of course I do, but this time I think you need to go alone. I think you need to talk to your family. You may go as long as you swear in blood you will return.

In blood? Never! Cole said in mock horror.

Ha! was all Sumi had to say.

When they reached the garden, he set her down and she said, Sit, Cole, and I will bring you some Sapporo. It is time for me to take my vitamins and drink that awful tea the doctor prescribed. I’ll bring the phone to you when Sawyer calls. Now relax.

You are the bossiest female I ever met, Cole said, whacking her gently on the rump. Fetch the Sapporo and I’ll go for a walk in the garden. Go, go, go!

Next to the cherry blossom hill, this garden was probably the most tranquil spot in the entire world. It had been planted and sculpted by a Zen master. When Shadaharu was alive, this garden had been his favorite spot. He’d said he wanted to die here, if only it wouldn’t leave unhappy memories for his family.

Cole skirted a waterfall and crossed a rustic bridge before he sat down on a nearby bench. When it was time for him to die, would he want to die here on foreign soil, or would he want to go back to Texas? He shook his head to clear away these morbid thoughts. Where did they come from? Death was a long way off. He stared off into the distance and barely noticed Sumi when she set down a bottle of beer and the portable phone. She waited a moment, hoping he would ask her to join him. When he continued to stare at a banzai tree, she quietly withdrew, her eyes filled with tears. They were growing so far apart.

Whoever and whatever you are, Shigata Mitsu, you have been here in this garden. I feel it. He thought of words like karma, spirits, and guardian angels, and Shadaharu Hasegawa. There was always something bordering on the ethereal about the old Japanese. He’d mentioned it to Riley’s grandfather the first time he set foot in the garden, and the old man had just smiled. He remembered that smile now because it had made him feel so alive and wanted. He also remembered the awe he felt when in the old man’s presence. What’s more, he had said so, to the old man’s delight.

Many times here in this garden, sitting in this very spot, he’d felt Shadaharu’s spirit. He felt the old man’s hand on his shoulder when he allowed it to slump here in the privacy of this garden. He didn’t see ghostly apparitions or trailing bits of fog or even hear singsong words. It was nothing like that at all. He just always knew the old man was there, which somehow made him more aware of the gentle breeze and the sound of his own footsteps. Once, not long ago, when he was feeling very vulnerable, he’d childishly set what he thought was a ghost trap. He’d brought out a small glass of sake, lighted a cigar and laid it carefully in an ashtray on a small table. He himself didn’t like sake and never smoked cigars. He sat down to wait, his eyes on the little table. Then one of the children had called him to the phone. When he returned a long time later, the sake was gone and the cigar was nothing but a stub. One of the children, he told himself, or more likely, the cigar had simply burned out. Until he walked the same path the old Japanese had so many times, the same walk he’d taken with him. There, right in front of his eyes, were little piles of ash. He’d gotten goose bumps that day and never mentioned it to anyone. It was a secret he kept to himself. There was no doubt in his mind that Shadaharu’s spirit was trying to help him. If what he was experiencing wasn’t real, then he was losing his mind. The question was, what was the old Japanese trying to tell him? Was he trying to warn him of something? Cole was tense, impatient, traits the Japanese frowned upon. He had to relax, meditate. What or who was Shigata Mitsu?

He realized he was waiting, but he wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. A sign of some kind. He drank his beer, his eyes on the portable phone. Shigata Mitsu. He whispered the name, his voice soft and full of sadness. When nothing happened, Cole said, I understand, old friend, one clue at a time. He didn’t know if he felt stupid or not, and he didn’t have time to think about it then, for the phone rang. It was Sawyer, his port in a storm. She was always there for him, whenever he needed her. He loved his half sister, but not because she was always lovable; more often than not she was a royal pain in the ass.

For Christ’s sake, Sawyer, do you always have to come on the phone like a tornado? I can hear you just fine. What’s up? How are the kiddies, my godchild in particular? How’s the weather in New York? Have you ever heard of Shigata Mitsu? Cole asked, his voice dropping to a low mutter.

Everything is fine. Kids are fine. Adam’s fine. It’s raining. My au pair is working out just great. I have time to myself once in a while. That’s kind of the reason I’m calling you, Cole. I need some money from that dynasty you control, Sawyer trilled. What was that name again?

Cole’s stomach flip-flopped. How much? he asked gruffly. Shigata Mitsu, he almost snapped.

A bunch. Listen, I need to talk with you. I’ve designed this . . . Cole, it will bend . . . it’s a plane that will bend the laws of aerodynamics. 1 did it in between changing diapers and wrestling with Adam. Coleman Aviation hasn’t got the financing I’m going to need. I need big bucks, little brother. Her voice was so airy, so confident-sounding, Cole cringed. Millions. Maybe a hundred million. His stomach lurched a second time. "Don’t you want to know about this splendid plane? Adam is impressed. Riley said, and this is a direct quote, ‘It will put us back in the running when Cole comes through.’ End of quote. I guess I overwhelmed you. Listen, I see this as tomorrow’s Top Gun. I’m talking about super-maneuverability, within seconds. A decisive advantage in air-to-air combat. Vectored thrust engine. Canard wings. You interested, Cole?"

What do I get out of this? Cole asked coolly.

The chance to be my financial backer. It’ll fly, Cole. Trust me. It’s like we’re coming full circle. Just like Grandpa Moss did the first time around. It’s our chance to get out from under. Megabucks. Are you in, Cole? Her voice was fretful-sounding now, Cole thought. She probably hadn’t expected any questions, any opposition.

Cole thought about profit margins, his past three years, and his miserable time at the helm of Rising Sun. Seventy-five percent and twelve percent interest. I could charge fifteen, but since you’re family, I’ll go with twelve. This must be what he’d subconsciously been waiting for, a sign from the other side, from Shadaharu. Jesus, it was his first goddamn clue. What else could it be? His thoughts grew frenzied. Seventy-five percent and twelve percent interest would put him where he wanted to be, in control, showing a profit. For sure he was a believer now. A niggling voice intruded in his thoughts. At Sawyer’s and the family’s expense. His mind continued to race. Was it too high, too much? Guts, he needed a bushelful now. The numbers were high, but given the vagaries of government contracts, it could also alienate the family, plus . . . plus he could be betting the ranch on a ghost. Was he losing his mind? Ah shit! He wished now he hadn’t rattled off the numbers at the speed of light. He was about to speak when Sawyer’s shrill voice pierced his eardrum.

Did I hear you right, Cole? she said coldly. Seventy-five percent and twelve percent interest?

In his life he’d never heard such a voice from her. He wanted to say no, take the words back. He thought about Rising Sun’s profit margin. He thought about his father-in-law, who just happened to be a ghost, a spirit. Well, either he believed or he didn’t. He decided he believed.

I’m open to negotiating this matter, he said. Nothing is ever carved in stone. Isn’t it about time for you to come over here? Let’s sit down and hammer out a deal we can all live with.

In your dreams, Cole, Sawyer snarled. I guess I did hear you right. You give some people power and money, and it’s all over.

Cole didn’t think her voice could get any angrier or any colder, but it did.

Good-bye, Cole.

"Son-of-a-fucking-bitch," Cole hissed.

Hovering discreetly at the entrance to the Zen garden, Sumi trundled her way down the winding path to where Cole was sitting. What is it? she asked fearfully. Did Sawyer . . . is it bad news?

Depends on your point of view. She wants . . . she expects me to finance a plane she’s designed for Coleman Aviation.

"Oh, is that all? I thought it was something terrible, from the way you looked. You told her you would, didn’t you? How I admire her ability. To think that both of you, brother and sister, became aeronautical engineers . . . well, it’s just wonderful. My father